


where to start

by aunt_zelda



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, BDSM, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Food, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Intimacy, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Queerplatonic Relationships, Rope Bondage, Spanking, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27959585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: “So, what are you in for?” Daisy asks with a flicker of a smile.“Sorry?”“What brings you to these parts? Looking for someone, looking for something, trying to process your feelings about all this?” Daisy waves a hand.“Ideally, looking for someone.” Jon says. “I haven’t had much luck yet.”“Same. I’m too ace for this lot by far.”Jon perks up. “Really?”
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Alice "Daisy" Tonner
Comments: 7
Kudos: 53
Collections: Rusty Quill Secret Santa 2020





	where to start

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bloodsbane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bloodsbane/gifts).



> Ahhhhh I love Jon and Daisy! Thank you for the opportunity to write this kind of dynamic between them, I really enjoyed getting to delve into this. 
> 
> Tags are a bit messy because I wasn't entirely sure to what degree each was in the fic itself, so I did my best to cover the bases.

Jon hasn’t had great luck with local munches. Everyone seems to know each other already, and there’s a heavy emphasis on hooking up. Still, he tries, and keeps going, hoping to meet someone compatible.

Today, Jon’s being prodded at by a woman in a corset with long fingernails. He’s trying and failing to explain yet again what “sex-ambivalent” means, and the woman isn’t listening to him. 

“I’ve got a St. Andrew’s cross with your name on it.” She purrs. Jon thinks her name might be Lilith, or Lillian? 

“My name’s not Andrew.” Jon says blankly. He knows very well what Lilith’s talking about, but he has no interest in letting her strap him to anything, much less a St. Andrew’s cross. 

“There you are!” suddenly there’s another woman in front of him, stocky and blonde compared to the willowy raven-haired domme trying to grab at Jon’s arm. “Was wondering where you’d run off to.” She looks dismissively at Lilith. “You mind, mate?” 

Lilith melts away into the crowd without a word. 

“Thank you,” Jon says to the newcomer, shoulders sagging in relief at the rescue. 

“No problem. I hate it when she does that. Always trying to get her claws into fresh meat.” The woman shudders. “I’m Daisy, by the way.” 

She doesn’t look like a Daisy, so Jon supposes it must be her real name. “Jon,” he offers his hand.

She shakes it firmly, and he finds himself distracted by thinking what her grip could do to him. 

“So, what are you in for?” Daisy asks with a flicker of a smile. 

“Sorry?”

“What brings you to these parts? Looking for someone, looking for something, trying to process your feelings about all this?” Daisy waves a hand. 

“Ideally, looking for someone.” Jon says. “I haven’t had much luck yet.”

“Same. I’m too ace for this lot by far.” 

Jon perks up. “Really?” 

Daisy grins at him in solidarity. “Wanna get out of here? There’s a place ‘round the corner that does great kebabs.” 

Jon’s starving, and more importantly, eager to keep talking to Daisy. 

~*~

Daisy, it turns out, is a self-defense instructor. She takes to demonstrating basic techniques with Jon very quickly, insisting everyone (particularly queer people in the scene) should know how to break out of holds and turn an attacker’s weight against them. 

Jon makes for a poor study. Considering that means Daisy pins him to the ground over and over, breath hot on his face, hands gripping him tightly, Jon doesn’t mind in the least. 

“Are you losing on purpose?” Daisy asks after a particularly bad bout one day on the floor of Jon’s living room. 

“No!” Jon protests. “I’m just pathetic.”

“Hey, none of that.” Daisy thwacks him upside the head. “No talking yourself down.” She stands up and helps him to his feet. “That’s it for today.”

“Would you stay for dinner?” Jon asks, before he can stop himself. 

Daisy freezes. “Why?”

“Because I want to share a meal with you.”

“And you mean just that. Not like, ‘oh come up for coffee and also I’m going to shove my hand down your pants?’”

Jon shudders. “God, no, not that.”

“Ok.” Daisy sprawls on his sofa. “What’s for dinner?” 

Dinner is homemade pot-stickers, with a sauce Jon bought from a local restaurant because he hasn’t managed to crack the recipe himself yet. 

“It’s uh, been a long time, since someone else cooked for me,” Daisy admits as they’re clearing up the dishes. 

“That’s a shame. Food should be shared.” That had been ingrained in Jon from a young age, that meals were about more than filling your belly three times a day. 

“I’d invite you to mine but … I don’t really cook much.” Daisy squirms. “I could make toast?”

“Hey, I love toast.” Jon smiles. “Have you got jam?”

“Of course! I’m not an animal.” Daisy puffs up proudly. “I’ve got _three_ kinds of jam.” 

They both start laughing, and make plans for when Jon can visit. 

~*~

Toast (and tea, to make a proper meal of it) turns into a kink negotiation scene by the second round of cups. 

The negotiations lead to Jon kneeling on Daisy’s floor patiently while Daisy ties him up, wrapping rope in careful intricate loops around his body and distributing the pressure all around him. His hands are still somewhat free, though his arms are bound almost entirely to his torso. 

“There now,” Daisy pronounces, smirking at the final knot. “Do the washing up.”

It takes Jon a supreme amount of effort to wash the dishes and cups from their tea service earlier. All the while Daisy watches him, clicking her tongue when he slips or makes a mistake. 

Once that’s done, he returns to her and sinks to his knees at her feet. 

“Good boy … but I noticed you dropped several things along the way. That’s earned you a punishment.”

Jon bows his head, shivering slightly. 

“Aw, don’t be scared,” Daisy chides, ruffling his hair. “You’ll feel so much better afterwards.”

She guides him up onto her lap and carefully unties the ropes. Then she twists him around and binds him anew, with his wrists behind his back this time. 

“Down,” she murmurs, laying him out over her lap. The position is absurd, he’s a grown man, but … it pings something in Jon, makes him feel smaller and safer. 

The slap to his arse startles him. He knew it was coming, but hadn’t realized she would start so soon. 

Daisy is relentless, setting a brutal pace. Jon cries out, and when that doesn’t earn him a condemnation he gets more vocal, gasping and sobbing before long. 

Finally Daisy stops, stroking her hands over his sore muscles. 

“You took that so well,” Daisy moans. “I’m so proud of you.”

Jon blinks back tears. He was good. He did a good job. She’s _proud_.

He’s vaguely aware of Daisy untying him, bringing a cloth up to his face, and holding him tightly. He’s awash in warmth and pressure and the all the best sensations. 

When Jon comes back to himself he’s lying in a bed that smells like Daisy’s hair, under a blanket. Daisy’s beside him, on top of the blanket layer.

“Good?” Daisy asks.

“Perfect.” Jon stretches slightly. “You?”

“Never better.” Daisy holds up her phone. “I’m ordering dinner. What do you want?”

Jon snuggles up against her side and scans the menu. 

Daisy reaches down and cards her fingers through his hair. 

Jon very much looks forward to not moving from this spot for the foreseeable future.


End file.
